


Love Me Tenderly

by Liz2010



Series: Dark Paradise [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas, Declarations Of Love, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, I'm finally nice to my characters;, Mentions of Panic Attacks, Oral Sex, Road Trips, Romantic Fluff, Smutty, Snow, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, minor characters are only mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 05:40:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20925068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liz2010/pseuds/Liz2010
Summary: Derek quickly wrapped his arms around Stiles. He pulled them together until all Stiles could see was his eyes. “Well, we don’t want that. I take it back.”Stiles leaned in and kissed him. Then kissed him again, the happiness in his heart nearly overflowing.“So, this is love.” He thought to himself.After everything they have been through, Stiles feels like he and Derek deserve to be happy.  A romantic trip might just be what they need to make that happen.





	Love Me Tenderly

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is technically a a fluffy sequel to Dark Paradise that I had to write to make up for everything I have put those poor characters thought, but its not necessary to have read it to understand this story. Though, if you like this one, it might be worth checking out, hint hint. 
> 
> As always, unbeta read and I own nothing. Happy reading!

“I’m going to be sick.” Stiles put his head in between his knees the best he could, considering the tight quarters of the seats.

“No, you’re not. Just take a few deep breathes.”

The hand around his wrist tightened slightly, just enough to ground him, enough to remind him he wasn’t alone. Stiles focused on his breathing, in for five and out for three. Over and over until his stomach settled and he no longer felt like he was about to suffocate. 

“Thanks Derek.” Stiles looked over to the aisle seat to smile at his boyfriend, only to find him pale and shaking as well. 

“What’s wrong?” The fear that something had gone terribly wrong, that Derek had been poisoned with wolfsbane, that a spell had been cast of the him, that he was having second thoughts about their trip was almost enough to throw him back into his panic attack. Stiles tried not to claw at his chest and started counting his breathing again. 

Derek managed a shaky smile and moved his hand from Stiles wrist to interlock their fingers. “Wolves are not meant to fly. I’ll be fine once we land. Enjoy the view.”

Derek nudged Stiles’ face to look out the window. Stiles frowned but let him. Derek always preferred privacy when he felt weak, and it truly was a spectacular view. The fields of the Midwest were covered in snow, just visible below the clouds. 

It was his first time on a plane. The trip Derek had planned for the two of them, the one that Lydia had blabbed about, wasn’t in LA like Stiles had thought. It was in Chicago, right before the holidays.

“Laura started the tradition.” Derek said after he presented Stiles with the tickets, looking pleased to have planned the whole thing out in secret, at least until Lydia slipped. “After the fire, Christmas always felt lonely, with just the two of us. So, instead of celebrating, we went on a trip. Chicago was my favorite.”

Stiles couldn’t say no, nor did he want to. He was on break from school, the supernatural was all under control thanks to the newfound comradery of the pack, and Derek looked so eager. Besides, technically, they wouldn’t miss Christmas. It was a three-day trip over the weekend, and they would be back Christmas Eve, with plenty of time left for festivities. 

Derek was working Christmas anyway. No one wanted to work the Christmas or New Years, so normally John drew straws, to make it as fair as possible. So Derek convinced a couple of the officers who drew the short straws to let him take a long weekend in exchange from him working both Christmas and New Years, since he technically wouldn’t get vacation days until he had worked at the precinct for a year. 

The Sheriff was less than pleased about the whole thing. Stiles wasn’t sure if it was the fact they would be out of town so close to the holiday, simply the idea of his high school aged son who was still prone to panic attacks flying hundreds of miles or that basically everyone knew Derek and he were planning to finally have sex. 

But Stiles made sure Melissa and Scott, not to mention the rest of the pack, would be around enough that his dad wouldn’t get lonely, since he and his father's relationship had become even more tightly knit over the last few months, as Stiles slowly became himself again, and less of a anxiety ridden, depressed shell. Stiles also agreed to get and take some emergency anxiety meds to help with any inevitable panic attacks and promised to text every day. 

The sex thing was a little trickier. The Sheriff made it very clear he did not approve of the idea of a deflowing trip and threatened not to let Stiles go. Loudly. Constantly. Even when Stiles had argued that he was legally an adult and technically, his dad couldn’t stop him. Stiles then had been subjected a very uncomfortable talk with his dad about consent and boundaries that included how, just because he was eighteen, didn’t mean he was mature. Not to mention the often-heard threat that as long as Stiles was under his roof, he would obey his father’s rules. 

Stiles had rolled his eyes at that. He might act goofy and enjoy some of the geeky things in life, but he was the most mature eighteen-year-old he knew Trauma did that. And if he really wanted to move out, he would be more than capable. But, he didn't want to leave his dad and he didn't want to move out, even to Derek's house. At least not yet. Not until after graduation. 

Still, by the time his dad was done talking, he kinda wanted to crawl under the bed and never come out. Because some things a teenager should never have to talk to his father about, at least not in the degree of detail his dad when into. 

He felt slightly better thought, after dinner one night, his dad took Derek into the living room while Stiles cleaned up, and they had a similar conversation. Derek had been bright red and had left without dessert. 

Whatever Derek had said during their talk had been enough, however, to make John change his mind. He agreed to let Stiles go, then pressed like a package of condoms into his hand, and made him promise to be safe. Stiles agreed, if only to get his dad to stop talking. 

Like they would even need condoms. Wolves couldn’t carry diseases.

Stiles was looking forward to the trip and everything it entailed. A little nervous, yeah, but who wouldn’t be. Derek was like actual model hot and now that he had the uniform going for him, damn. 

Stiles drummed the fingers on his free hand on the armrest, thinking about how hot Derek was and how this weekend was going to go. Of how he wanted it to go. It proved to be a good distraction from his anxiety, if a little too good. He was half-hard, shifting in his seat and thinking determinedly about baseball and other non-sexual things, and ignoring Derek’s smirking, the asshole could smell it, Stiles was sure, when kind woman’s face came into view, breaking Stiles from his thoughts.

“Can I get you gentleman anything else?” 

Stiles opened his mouth, but before he could get anything out, Derek smiled his fake smile that made strangers fall in love with him, smoothly taking all the woman’s attention. “I think we’re good.”

Stiles pouted at Derek, poking his bicep with his finger. He folded, knowing just what Stiles wanted. “Maybe a few more of those cookies.”

First class was the best. They had free drinks and snacks and almost enough leg room, even with both of them being on the tall side. Plus, there were only two seats in a row, so they had privacy. Well, as much as possible on a plane. He was glad Derek had insisted on the extravagance, though, looking at the wolf’s pale face, it may have been as much for his own sake as Stiles. 

Derek, at Stiles request, had gotten champagne once they took off. The attendants didn’t fall for Stiles argument that he needed some too even though he was underaged, because they weren’t technically in the United States- they were above it. They made him drink coke, thought they made up for it with lots of extra cookies Stiles proceeded to steal most of the champagne from Derek as soon as the attendant’s back was turned, making Derek laugh at the faces he made when the bubbles burned his nose. 

In fact, even with the sudden panic attack halfway through, it really was shaping up to be an amazing trip. Stiles couldn’t wait to land.  
\------  
Chicago was cold. Like really cold. Ball shriveling, bone chilling cold. They were in line for a taxi and Stiles was about to freeze to death. Seriously, he was in danger of losing a finger, or five, to the windchill. There was no snow on the ground, but the whole city seemed to be a frozen tundra of death. 

Derek fixed him with a judgmental look before taking both of his hands in his own and rubbing them briskly to warm them up. “I thought you checked the weather.”

“I did! I just didn’t think 35 degrees would be this cold. It doesn’t seem this cold when it’s the same temperature at home.”

“Yeah. Chicago has its own kind of cold.”

Neither of them mentioned how Stiles still, despite the weight he had managed to put on since the summer and the general increase in his health, ran far too cold. How often his lips went blue and Derek wrapped in him blanket after blanket to try to warm him back up. Derek started to shrug out of his own leather jacket, but Stiles stopped him.

“I don’t want you to get cold.” Derek glared. “Fine. I don’t want anyone wondering why you don’t need a coat. We don’t need anything problems on our ‘special weekend.’”

Stiles waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Derek rolled his eyes but kept the jacket on. 

“Fine.” 

They were up next in the taxi line anyway. He could warm up in the car. Stiles took the time to let his dad know they had landed safely, as their cab pulled up. Derek grabbed their suitcases and they got in.  
\-------  
Stiles was ready to get to the hotel and crawl in bed with his boyfriend and do all the naughty things he had been dreaming about for ages, but instead, Derek made them stop at LL Bean to stock up on winter clothes. He even paid the taxi an exorbitant amount to deliver their luggage to the hotel without them, even though Stiles said the driver would probably steal their stuff, so they could shop unencumbered.

Stiles told him repeated not to stop, that he didn’t need anything. Because they weren’t going to be there very long. And he would probably never need a winter coat in Beacon Hills, even though last year he had about froze even with the temperate California weather. He was fine. 

Stiles whined about what a waste of money it was the whole way through the store as Derek ignored him and pile on layer after layer into the cart like he was trying to cloth the whole pack, not simply one man. 

Derek put up with it until they were looking at hats. Well, Derek was looking at hats. Stiles was complaining yet again that it was a useless investment, that he would rather have Derek’s hand fondling him rather than the headwear. 

“Stiles!” Derek snapped and it was close enough to a snarl to shut him up. “I don’t want you to be cold. I want to buy them for you.”

Stiles fingered the material of the ridiculously expensive coat that Derek had picked out. “It seems like such a waste.”

“Keeping you warm isn’t a waste.” Derek seemed torn between the black and the brown beanies. He shrugged, and threw them both in. 

Stiles scent must have soured at that, because Derek finally stopped shopping and looked at him, scowling. This wasn’t how this trip was supposed to go. “What’s actually wrong?”

Stiles licked his lips and refused to meet Derek’s eyes, feeling unreasonably upset. “I don’t want you to have to spend this kind of money on me. You already paid for this whole trip. You shouldn’t have to buy me more just because I didn’t pack warm enough.”

Derek’s brow softened and he reached out, gently pulling up Stiles chin until they were looking eye to eye. 

“Do you have any idea how much it has killed me these last few months, not being able to take care of you properly? To see you struggle and not be able to fix it because I was stuck in training?”

“I wasn’t struggling.”

That wasn’t entirely true. Stiles was so happy to have his friends, his pack back, but things were different. He was different. He wasn’t so broken anymore, but he certainly wasn’t the same as he used to be. He didn’t trust Scott quite like he had. He caught himself second guessing the alpha more than once and hung out more with Isaac and Ethan as they all started senior year. It had been hard, and more than once he had wished Derek had been closer, not stuck miles away at the police academy. 

Guilt twisted in Stiles stomach as he thought of Derek blaming himself for Stiles difficulties re-acclimating to the pack. “So, this is a payoff?”

“No.” Derek paused, clearly trying to find the right words. “It’s hard to explain to a human. It’s an actual need, to take care of our mates however they need. It hurts not to be able to. And I haven’t been able to in a long time, so I want to now.”

“Mates?” Stiles smirked as he was distracted from his discomfort by the kinky turn the conversation was taking. “You want to mate me?”

Derek leaned in close and nuzzled against his neck, clearly enjoying the sweet smell of his boyfriend’s arousal. “Not the porn kind of mate. Think more like life partner, less dom/sub.”

“Why Derek are you proposing?” 

Derek blushed a bright red and broke apart from him, hands suddenly clenched tight. Stiles eyes widened at the emotional depth he suddenly found himself in. He gave Derek a quick peck on the lips, trying desperately to break the tension. “I’m sorry. I was kidding. I’m not used to having people take care of me. But I guess I’ll adjust to having my hot-ass boyfriend throw his money at me.”

The wolf shrugged. “I’m not use to having anyone to buy things for. But I do have the money, you know. So, stop feeling so guilty and let me spoil you.”

They ended up compromising. Stiles left with two warm sweaters, a reasonably priced coat that he probably could wear at home, waterproof gloves, a sensible scarf, and a hat with a wolf knitted into the front of it. 

He wore the hat the rest of the trip, much to Derek’s annoyance.  
\-----  
They still didn’t make it to the hotel because the cashier said the best pizza place in town was just down the road. With Stiles properly dressed, they made their way to it, both enjoying the feel of a city that was so different from their hometown.

The pizza was, in fact, amazing.

“Holy shit.” Stiles moaned around his first bite. “Why did we take this long to try deep dish? Oh God, this is incredible. We need to live here. Let’s move. I don’t even care how cold it is.”

Derek raised his eyebrows critically at his boyfriend’s enthusiasm, even though he had pizza sauce smeared on his chin from his hurry to eat his own. “Do you want me to get you and the pizza a room?”

“That would be great.” 

The first pizza didn’t last long, so they ordered another. Ordering both took a while, but Derek kept up the conversation without Stiles having to ramble too much to fill in the silence. The restaurant was perfect, dark enough to feel private and intimate, but not too dark to be creepy. 

They were working on a chocolate drizzled lava cake with ice cream that Stiles insisted they get even though they were both about to burst from the mozzarella goodness that they had devoured when Stiles started giggling. 

“What?” Derek looked more relaxed than Stiles had seen him in ages, leaning back in his chair while Stiles scooped up the last of the ice cream. 

“This is our first date. You flew me to Chicago for our first date, you big softie.”

“No, it’s not.” Derek brow scrunched up adorably as he thought back on their time together and found nothing that resembled any sort of a date.

“Can’t think of any others, can you?”

“We hung out all the time. You practically lived at the apartment all summer. We talked on the phone every day once I went to the academy. We’ve been dating for six months.”

“Hanging out doesn’t count. Going out counts. This is our first time out, ergo our first date.”

Derek frowned. “I don’t want this to be our first date.”

“Why not?” Stiles pushed the very empty plate away from him, rubbing a hand over his very full tummy.

“Because I don’t put out on a first date. And I very much want to put out.”

Derek’s eyes were dark as he licked his lips ever so slightly. A jolt shot all the way through Stiles’ body at the sight of it and settled into the pit of his stomach, heat burning him from the inside out. 

“We should go.” 

Derek nodded in agreement, looking a little flushed himself, getting the check and hailing a cab.  
\------  
They managed to keep their hands to themselves in the cab, but it was a close thing. Stiles felt like he was about to explode from the strain of not throwing himself on the wolf He sat huddled against the far door, worried that if they were touching, he would lose control. 

Derek didn’t look much better. His hands were clenched so tight as he determinedly looked strait ahead that Stiles swore he heard a bone pop. 

They walked into the hotel, Stiles not really paying any attention to where they were going, as he was too focused on Derek’s fantastic ass. It wasn’t until they stopped at the check-in desk to get their luggage that his mind caught up with his eyes. 

Damn. This place was fucking awesome. The walls were all polished and spotlessness white granite. The ceiling boasted a chandelier that reminded him of fireworks in the way they burst into pure white lights. The desks and furniture were all a sleek black and there were various statures that made it feel like the fanciest museum in the world. Stiles suddenly regretted not letting Derek buy him nice boots, as he shuffled in his dirty Converse, hoping no one would notice and throw him out because of his shabby footwear.

Stiles got more and more nervous as they rode the elevator up to the room, on the top floor, of course. Everything here was so nice. An actual porter was bringing up their luggage. The walls were so shinny that he was scared to touch them for fear of smudging them. He tried to stand very still, but he couldn’t keep his hands from tapping against his thigh. 

Derek seemed unaffected by the lavishness of the hotel and simply grabbed Stiles’ hand, ignoring the look from the businessman in suit that glared at them the whole way up.

\-----  
Their room wasn’t any better.

“Derek.” Stiles tried not to panic as he looked around at the lush couch and love seat in the sitting room, too flabbergasted to find the bedroom, because his mind was stuck on the fact that their hotel room had a sitting room. “There is a fireplace. In our hotel room.”

The wolf appeared from the bedroom where he had been putting away the suitcases and their contents. “Yeah. I know you get cold. I thought you might like it. They turned it on before we got here.”

“There is a fireplace in our room.”

“Yeah.” Derek looked upset now, his eyes flickering over Stiles’ face as he got closer. “Do you not like it?”

Fuck. That was the only problem with a werewolf boyfriend. No lying. Ever. Even when a fireplace in an amazing hotel room somehow made Stiles feel small and not good enough. 

“I love it.” Stiles threw himself at the wolf, hoping to distract him from the blip in his heart with kisses. 

It worked. Derek kissed back, long and hard, like it was all he had ever wanted. They fell back on the couch, tangled together. Stiles ended up on his back, Derek straddling him. He ran his hands through his boyfriend’s hair, tugging a bit when Derek’s teeth scraped his lip. A shutter ran down him and if he hadn’t been turned on before, he was now. 

“Want to move this to the bedroom?” Derek asked, kissing a small trail down Stiles neck and to his chest.

Stiles didn’t think he had ever been harder. He thrust his hips up, desperate for fiction. “Oh God yes.”

Derek stood, adjusting his own jeans, then scooped Stiles up bridal style, something he would have complained about if it wasn’t so intimate nestled here in his arms. Damn Derek and his closeted romance. 

The move from the couch to the bed was enough to slow them up a bit. They kissed side by side, enjoying the feel of each other’s lips, Derek’s thumb tracking Stiles’ jaw gently. Suddenly the race to the end wasn’t as important and Stiles felt a flutter of fear. 

Derek must have smelled it or Stiles' kisses changed. Either way, he stopped. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Stiles moved back in to continue, but Derek pulled away.

“Liar. It’s the room isn’t it. It’s not right.”

Stiles sighed at the loss of the moment and sat up, getting soft already. “The room is perfect. A little fancier than I expected, but perfect in every way. I mean like, damn, this bed is quite possible the comfiest thing I have ever placed my ass on. And did you see the fireplace? It’s awesome.”

“Stiles.”

“I’m nervous.”

Nervous was an understatement. He felt overwhelmed by the room and the city and the way the evening was going. He didn’t like it. It made him twitchy and raw and quiet frankly, moments away from spiraling.

It wasn’t fair. He wanted this. He loved Derek, he did, and he was ready for sex. But his heart still raced uncomfortably in his chest and he knew he reeked of anxiety. 

Derek looked at him with those big beautiful eyes so shinny and genuine. He seemed to understand what Stiles meant immediately. “I’m nervous too.”

Stiles scoffed. Derek was big, hot, strong, and a cop with scuff that Stiles would kill to be able to grow. Everyone, and he meant everyone, wanted him.

“Really. With Jennifer and Ka-. With my past experience, sex is a big deal for me to.”

Kate. That was who he was about to say. Kate, who Stiles had long ago figured out had done more than just burn down his home. Then Jennifer had come along and nearly done the exact same thing. 

Derek didn’t look like that confident man who carried him to bed. He looked young and broken, sitting on the bed with his arms wrapped around his chest and eyes a million miles away. Stiles wanted to wrap him up and hold him. He wanted to make it better, somehow, however he could, but he knew better than to push when Derek needed space.  
He did scoot closer on the bed and laid his head against Derek’s shoulder lightly, easy to push off or move away from if he needed to. 

They sat like that for a long moment, the fire crackling and the barely audible sounds of the street below filling the silence. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Stiles promised, thinking to himself all the ways that he might break that promise, even if he didn’t want to. Death came to mind first, followed by a messy breakup or worse, a gradual loss of affection that bottomed out into apathy. He shook the thoughts out of his head with a jerk. He wouldn’t hurt Derek. He wouldn’t. 

“I know.” Derek sounded assured, despite his somber expression. “The way I feel about you, it something different. It doesn’t feel like something I have ever felt before.”

Stiles melted with pleasure in hearing that, pressing a chaise kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “I know.” He hoped Derek could catch the Star Wars reference and didn’t think he was making fun.

Derek caught him his face before he could lean away, and pressed them close again, parting his lips just enough to tease. They kissed deeper and deeper, until Derek ended up on top again, one hand holding himself up, the other tracing circles on Stiles stomach and making him squirm. 

“And we don’t have to have sex tonight. Or on this trip. Or in the next six months. It won’t change the way I feel about you.” Derek said, breaking off the kissing suddenly and pulling up slightly so he wasn’t directly pressing on Stiles’ re-hardening cock.

The butterflies that had been terrorizing Stiles stomach settled at that. “What if we try not sex, but like other stuff. We haven’t gotten past second base. We could try for third, take it slow before we round fourth.” He thrust his hips up while grabbing at Derek’s ass.

“Oral?” Derek asked, bluntness dampened by the flush on his face. 

“Yes Derek.” Stiles huffed, amused. “Or hand jobs. Work up to full on sex.”

“Good idea.” Before Stiles could pull down Derek zipper to show him what a good idea it was, his boyfriend’s teasing hand was replaced by his tongue, wiping a strip from his belly button down to the edge of his jeans. 

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck.”

Derek looked up and grinned. “Tell me if you need to stop.”

He then proceeded to unzip the jeans in the slowest way possible, each inch punctuated with a lower and lower kiss, starting at his stomach, and going down.

Stiles was hard again. So hard he thought he might scream if Derek didn’t get somewhere soon. He squirmed as his hands fisted the sheets, unwilling to stay something that might make Derek stop. As if Derek could read his thoughts, he pulled down the jeans and edged down his boxers with the same torturous fanfare. 

Stiles only had a moment to be worried about his cock being wrong, too small or funny looking or something, after all this was the first time anyone had ever really looked at it, before Derek had it in his hand, gently pulling at in it in sure strokes guaranteed to make him come. There was a moment of uncomfortable skin on skin, before Derek pulled lube out from somewhere and began to apply it liberally. His ran a thumb over the head and Stiles arched of the bed as he moaned. 

Derek smiled again and repeated the motion, looking more than pleased when Stiles moaned even louder, not caring who might hear. It felt amazing. Stiles keened as he felt himself begin to clench up, heat pooling in his stomach.

“Wait, wait.”

Derek stopped immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to come.”

Derek started stroking him again, loser and slower this time. “That’s kinda the point.”

Stiles didn’t have an answer for that. He just watched as Derek’s hand began to work him fast. 

Suddenly, he stopped. He moved his hand off Stiles’ cock and onto his balls, fondling them slightly. He leaned down and licked a stripe up the shaft, then settled on the head, his tongue circling the head.

“Fuck. Fuck.” Stiles couldn’t think of any other words as he legs tightened, hands wrapping in Derek’s hair. “Jesus, Derek. Fuck.”

“You taste so fucking good.” Derek’s voice was low, and dangerous as he paused with his attentions, the went back at just as hard. He gave a long pull on the cock, and Stiles lost it, coming hard with a sound that was dangerously close to a scream. 

Derek swallowed, then pulled off, allowing Stiles to work himself as he finished coming completely. 

“Jesus Der.” He repeated too tired to move. He felt broken. His boyfriend had broken him. 

He pulled Derek in close for a long kiss, palming Derek through the jeans he still wore. He needed to fix the hardness he found there. He fumbled with the zipper, fingers slow and clumsy from the endorphins. Derek impatiently pushed his hand away, pulling this pants and boxers down together and raising up over Stiles slightly. 

“Let me, just.” He pulled out his own cock, palming it frantically. “Let me come on you.”

Stiles complied, leaning back and watching Derek work at himself, his soft cock already twitching again at the sight. 

Derek came faster than Stiles thought he would, shooting over Stiles stomach, before collapsing beside him, breathless. 

“Dude, that was hot.” Stiles face hurt from how hard he was smiling. He got up and got a cloth to clean up with, tossing another one to Derek who was still laying on the bed, nearly asleep already. Well, he had worked hard. Stiles climbed into bed and curled up next to his boyfriend, feeling perfectly satisfied. 

He could get used to this.  
\-----  
Stiles woke up to an overheated octopus wrapped around him. At least that’s what it felt like. He had no idea how Derek’s two arms and legs could feel like so many. But, it was nice, to be held so tight, like he was precious. He wanted to lay here forever, but his bladder had other ideas. 

He went to the restroom, and Jesus, the bathroom was ridiculous, with a soaking full tub and separate shower, double sinks and a separate stall for the toilet. Everything was made with white tile and the sink was granite. He took care of his business, feeling like he could get used to living like this. 

He decided to go ahead and shower while he was in here. He smelled like sweat and sex and while it was something he could get used to, he didn’t want to walk around smelling like it. He started flicking slight switches, trying to find the bathroom fan. 

“Holy shit.” Stiles said. There was a TV in the mirror. He didn’t know how that was possible, but it was so cool. 

Eventually he turned it off and hopped in the shower. It had two shower heads, and Stiles immediately thought about all they ways they could be used later to get dirty instead of clean. He ignored his slight hard on as he thought of Derek in the shower with him, wet and dripping, fuck no. He wasn’t jerking off with his boyfriend in the other room. Especially since his boyfriend had werewolf hearing. He finished washing up, wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back into the bedroom.

Derek was still asleep curled up on the bed, brow relaxed in sleep and a slight smile on his face. Stiles couldn’t help but press a light kiss to those lips as he climbed back in bed face to face with his boyfriend. 

Derek’s hazel eyes flickered open and the grin became wide as he realized who he was in bed with. 

“Good morning.” Stiles said with a smile. He was rewarded with a much deeper kiss from his wolf. He ignored the stale morning taste and settled against Derek’s chest. 

“What do you want to do today?”

Stiles thought for long moment. He would be happy with whatever, as long as it was with Derek. “Anything you want to?”

“Oh, come on. This is your trip.” Derek dug his fingers into his armpits making Stiles laugh, as he shoved him away. He retaliated with the wolf’s only weakness, sensitive ribs and tickled until they were both flushed and breathless. 

“No, it’s our trip. And you are the one who has been here before. I’ll be just as happy at a museum with you or staying in bed. You pick.”

“Breakfast first. Then exploring.”

Breakfast was a couple donuts instead of an actual meal, because they had Dunkin Donuts, Derek we have to get some please, as they walked down the streets of the city. By some miracle, there wasn’t any snow pile up on the sidewalk and only a few people were out, so they could walk hand in hand. Stiles knew it was sappy and dumb, but he loved it. They walked around for a bit, going in and out of little shops and just enjoying the city.

They eventually ended up at the Art Institute of Chicago, though they had to grab an Uber to get there because Stiles couldn’t feel his toes anymore, even with wearing two pairs of socks. It was well worth the trip. Derek was entranced by the paintings, especially the Japanese art that was on special display.

“Cora was going to be an artist. We would paint together sometimes. She was always better.” Was the only explanation he would give as they wandered the halls.  
Stiles wondered if she still did. 

Stiles didn’t generally do well at museums, what with the no touching and not being loud. But, when Derek was looking so calm and happy, he controlled himself and found that he genuinely enjoyed it. The fact that people could make art like this, that humans could create things so beautiful and unique, was amazing. He felt peaceful on the inside, almost like he had doubled up on Adderall but better. 

They grabbed taco’s for lunch, Stiles uncharacteristically quiet as he let Derek take the lead as he rambled, for once, about his favorite works and how they should go to the museums in LA. It was nice, to hear Derek talk about something he liked. He was still so reserved, even with Stiles, even after they had been together for months. He hoped it would get better, now that they actually lived in the same town and weren’t a long-distance couple. 

After lunch, they grabbed a ride back to the hotel. Stiles wanted to nap, then maybe have some more sexy times, but Derek insisted they go and get changed. He wouldn’t say for what. Stiles put on the red button up dress shirt, along with the nice slacks that Derek had insisted he bring. Derek was dressed in a black shirt, with black pants and damn, he could pull it off. 

Stiles ran his finger over Derek’s shoulder, before pulling him in for a kiss. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks.” Derek’s eyes were sparkling. Stiles loved that he was enjoying this so much. “So do you.”  
\-------  
They held hands in the taxi on the way. Derek was smiling and Stiles was pretty sure his heart was melting. 

“We’re going to a musical?”

The car had dropped them outside a rather nondescript building with a marquee that Stiles was too close to read and a crowd that even Derek had a hard time pushing through, especially since he wouldn’t let go of Stiles hand. 

Derek smirked. “We’re going to see Hamilton.”

“What! No way!”

Stiles had heard about it, who hadn’t, but had never seen it. Never told Derek he wanted to see it either. He might have mentioned it to Scott once or a thousand times, but never Derek. Which meant Derek had asked Scott.

“Wow.” Stiles breathed as they finally made it through the glass doors.

It was beautiful and extravagant. The whole place had an almost magical feel to it as people in suits and dresses wandered around, trying to find their seats. The lights were dim and everything was decorated in rich reds with gold fixtures. 

“Glad you like it” Derek whispered into Stiles ear. Stiles shivered and tried not to think about how nice Derek’s ass looked as he led them to their seats. He had a feeling that hard-ons would not be appreciated in the theater. 

They sat on the second balcony in the front row. They were early and Stiles had a hard time waiting, twisting and squirming in his seat. 

Derek put a hand on his knee and Stiles stilled the leg he had been jerking up and down, flashing an apologetic smile to the lady next to them who he had clearly been annoying with his twitching.

“Sorry.” Stiles muttered. He still had difficulties handling anxiety, even the good kind, and he knew it could be irritating, especially to people who didn’t understand what Stiles had been though. Hell, sometimes the pack even got impatient with it, though they always looked ashamed after they snapped at him. 

Derek never let it bother him, though, no matter how exasperating Stiles was. He wrapped his other arm around Stiles’ shoulder comfortingly and Stiles felt himself relax into the grip. 

“It will start soon.”

The lights went down and the show started. The cast began to sing and Stiles didn’t move anymore as he watched with rapt attention.  
\---------  
“That was amazing. Fucking amazing.” Stiles could not stop talking about the show. It had been perfect. The singing, the action, the drama. So good. 

Derek laughed as Stiles spun in a circle to try to illustrate how good it was. “Really? I thought it was a little bit of a letdown, considering the hype.”

They were walking back to the hotel as the sun began to sink down over the horizon, the lake a frozen mirror in the distance. They had grabbed a couple hot dogs and were eating as they walked, though Stiles was talking more than eating. 

“You take that back right now.” Stiles pointed at him with his hot dog. “Or, I’ll never kiss you again.”

Derek quickly wrapped his arms around Stiles. He pulled them together until all Stiles could see was the brown and green of his eyes mixed together. “Well, we don’t want that. I take it back.”

Stiles leaned in and kissed him. Then kissed him again, the happiness in his heart nearly overflowing. 

“So, this is love.” He thought to himself. 

Stiles would have been happy to stand on the darkening street corner in downtown Chicago and kiss all night, but something cold and wet hit his cheek. He pulled away, annoyed.

“What the fuck.”

Derek looked up and grinned as white flakes fluttered down. 

“Is that snow?” Stiles demanded, holding his hand out and trying to catch some. 

“Yes Stiles.” A few flakes landed on the werewolf’s hair. “It’s snow.”

“Oh.” 

They stood for a long moment, hot dogs getting cold as they watched the snow slowly blanket the sidewalk. 

“We need to find a park.”

“What?” Derek barked, as Stiles grabbed his hand and drug him down the street, the other hand pulling up direction on his cell phone.

“It’s snowing. This is my first time ever seeing snow and I need there to be trees and a park and large patches of grass where we can build a snowman and make snow angels and I can throw a snow ball at your head and you pretend to be mad but actually just kiss me in the snow and its perfect.”

“You’ve been watching too many Christmas movies.”

It took then a while to get to the park. Unfortunately, it didn’t have many trees. It was basically just an open field in the city. 

Stiles didn’t care, He immediately plopped on the ground and began to fan his legs and arms. 

“Snow angels Derek. Now.”

Derek rolled his eyes but complied, climbing down beside his boyfriend. 

“Fuck that’s cold.” 

“It’s snow whiney wolf. It’s frozen. Get up, let me see.”

Stiles pulled Derek to his feet then, made them take selfies with the fairly terrible snow angels in the background, one of which he sent to Lydia, the other to his dad, as proof he was still alive and loving his trip

“Ok, now snowmen. Or women. I’m not sexist.”

Derek frowned as he looked at the light dusting of snow. “I don’t think there is enough snow.”

Stiles pouted.

Derek cocked his head as he caught the sound of laughter a few blocks away. “I have another idea.”  
\-----  
“Are you sure strapping blades to the bottom of your boyfriend’s feet and shoving him onto a frozen death trap is a good idea.”

“Yes.” Derek deadpanned, then relented when he caught scent of Stiles’ genuine nervousness. “It’ll be fine. Your much more coordinated than you used to be.”

“Fine.” Stiles grumbled as he slid out onto the ice. “But, if I die here, I’m strait up coming back to haunt you.”

“You’re fine.”

Stiles was fine. After the first few shaky feet, he got the hang of it. Soon he was sliding all over, dogging children and whooping. 

“Come on Derek, let’s go around without the rail.” Stiles shouted behind him, but Derek didn’t answer. “Derek?”

Derek was not fine. He was about ten feet from the entrance and holding onto the rail like it was his savoir. As Stiles skated closer, he could see how tightly Derek was wound, how his teeth were grinding together hard enough to make noise.

“Okay.” Stiles skated around to pry his hand off the rail. “Let’s take this slow.”

The problem was, Derek was a predator. He prowled and stalked, he didn’t glide.

“You have to stop picking up your feet.” Stiles instructed, as he struggled to hold Derek upright and push them both forward. “Stop picking up your feet. Why are you picking up your feet?”

Derek growled. 

“You have to glide. Push off with the front of your foot but keep the blade on the ice.”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

“Stiles.”

“Derek.”

“I’m going back to the rail.” Derek growled and flashed his eyes momentarily, hair coated in a light layer of snow. He looked beautiful. 

“Oh, no. You don’t get to give up. If it was me, you wouldn’t let me give up.”

Derek tried to escape to the rail at the same time Stiles grabbed his hand and tried to hold him back. Normal, Derek would have escaped his human easily. On ice, he ended up jerking Stiles forward, throwing him off balance.

Stiles flailed as he began to fall forward. Derek swore and threw himself down hard, twisting so that Stiles would essentially land on him, instead of the ice. 

Stiles stomach dropped as he began to fall. He was chilly and oversensitive, despite his coat and gloves and he knew the ice was going to hurt. 

And suddenly, Derek was there, catching him and protecting him. Not one body part hit the ice. 

“Oh my God.” Stiles whispered, as he laid there, watching Derek’s face check him over for damage. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You love me.”

“I do.” Derek looked mildly puzzled. “I though you knew.”

Stiles didn’t. They had said it before Derek went off to training, but not since then. He had hoped, with everything that had happened the last summer, that Derek still felt the same way. He knew Derek cared about him, liked him, wanted him. But love, it almost seemed too much to ask.

But, sitting on the ice, cold slowly seeming into his pants, Stiles realized that every time Derek did something nice, make him his favorite supper or asked him about his day or took him ice skating even though the wolf was absolutely terrible at it, he was showing how much he loved him. How he would always take care of him and never hurt him.

Stiles didn’t know a heart could feel like this. 

“I love you too.” 

Derek leaned in and kissed him tenderly, a cold hand cupping his cheek and his tongue traced his lips, but didn’t push in, even as Stiles open his lips in invitation. Stiles moaned, and Derek held him closer, but didn’t kiss harder, treating Stiles like he was the most precious thing he had ever held. It was heat but no fire, the coals burning long and hot, giving life but no pain.

“Ummm, excuse me?”

The ring guard was standing above them looking nervous as he chewed on his whistle. 

“You can’t do that here.”

“Sorry.” Derek’s pupils were blow wide as he licked his lips. “We’ll go.”  
\----------  
They should have grabbed a car. They were blocks away from the hotel and it was getting cold, especially with wet pants. 

But Stiles wanted to walk hand in hand as the snow fluttered down all around them, like some sort of romantic movie. So, they walked it. 

By the time the hotel was in sight, Stiles’ lips were blue, and he was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering. Derek had tried to give him his coat, but even the wolf was looking a little chilly. He had goosebumps and everything, and Stiles had put up enough of a fight that Derek was still wearing the leather jacket. 

“Stiles.”

Derek had a weird look on his face and Stiles realized his boyfriend had been calling his name more than once. 

“Yeah?”

Derek frowned at the slurred-out word. 

“Are you alright?”

“I don’t think I like snow.”

Derek snorted, then without a word, scooped up Stiles and began to jog towards the hotel.

“Derek,” Stiles squirmed uselessly in the wolf’s strong arms. “Someone is going to see.”

“It’s the middle of the night in the city. No one cares. Trust me.”

He was probably right. Stiles settled back in Derek’s warm arms as they rushed to the hotel and up to their suite. 

As soon as they got to their room, Derek carried Stiles to the bathroom and sat him on the counter, turning on the heating light and the warming tiles, because of course this place had heated floors. 

“Fuck.” Stiles shivered, as Derek stripped off his wet clothes and wrapped him in large fluffy towels until he was practically a burrito. 

Derek was frowning as he watched the human shiver, arms crossed. “Maybe next time you’ll listen to me when I tell you take my coat.”

“I didn’t want you to get cold.”

“Werewolf.”

“Shut up.”

Derek smiled at his win. “I’m going to call room service for hot chocolate. Will you be okay?”

Stiles glared, but the heat of it was diminished by his shivering not to mention the towels wrapping him from head to toes, nearly covering his face. “I’m not a child Derek.”  
\-----  
Stiles didn’t make it until room service arrived. By the time Derek placed the call, stripped off his own wet clothes to put on his PJ’s, and went back to the now toasty bathroom, Stiles was asleep, head titled back against the mirror and mouth open slightly as he snored. 

He didn’t see Derek smile lovingly at his boyfriend, the look of absolute devotion on his face as he ran a hand through Stiles hair. 

Instead, Stiles woke slightly to the now familiar feeling of being carried bridal style. He hummed, wanting to say something vaguely dirty about warming each other up but he was too tired and too comfortable as he was placed in the bed.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around Derek waist and buried his head in the wolf’s back. He fell back asleep with the smell of the wild in his nose and his boyfriend’s heartbeat in his ears.  
\------  
Stiles woke up a few hours later feeling unusually contented, if a little disoriented. His limbs felt heavy and his head a little fuzzy. He was still wrapped tight around his werewolf space heater, though at some point during the night, Derek had flipped over so that Stiles was pressed against his chest instead of his back. 

Stiles lay there in the dark of the room, slowly waking up, trying to convince himself that this was real, that Derek was here, wrapped so tight around him. 

Because there was a part of his brain that still couldn’t believe that this was real. That he had Derek, that Derek loved him. That part of his brain that told him he was a murder, that he didn’t deserve love, that part that he hated, that he was still working through with his therapist. 

“I love you,” he whispered to a still sleeping Derek with a smile, shutting out all the negative voices in his head with a firm shake of his head. Allison hadn’t been his fault, and he deserved love. Derek loved him. He had said as much. 

He pressed a kiss to Derek’s scruffy cheek. He had to be clean shaven for work, but he had let it grow back out over the weekend and had managed to grow some fairly impressive stubble. Stiles like how it felt on his lips. 

Derek groaned, them rubbed his face on the pillow, like he was trying to chase away an itch. 

Stiles laughed softly, then fidgeted, wanting ever so bad to reach up and touch Derek’s face, but not wanting to wake him. Derek had a tendency not to sleep well either, and nightmares were nearly as common for him as they were for Stiles. When the werewolf managed to get some decent sleep, Stiles hated to bother him.

Stiles, on the other hand, was wide awake now, and as much as he loved being in Derek’s arms, it was hard to him to sit still, especially in dark bedrooms that had nothing to occupy his mind. He wondered if he could grab his phone without waking the wolf. 

He tried to careful pull himself out of Derek’s grip, wiggling his hips as he spun around and reached out for his phone, on the nightstand where Derek had put it when he undressed Stiles. 

To his surprise, Derek didn’t pull him in closer as Stiles twisted. Instead he let out a faint moan and rolled his own hips against Stiles ass. 

Stiles froze, the blood immediately rushing to his cock. He knew that Derek couldn’t give consent while he was asleep, that he needed to stop, but damn, that was hot. 

Maybe Derek would be okay with being woken up. 

He gave up his quest for his phone, and laid quietly, only to have Derek responded the same, only this time his hand reached around Stiles waist and held on tight while he rutted against Stiles ass.

“Fuck.” Stiles breathed, as his arousal grew. “Fuck. Derek, wake up.”

The wolf’s kaleidoscope eyes opened slowly. 

“Are you awake?”

Derek nodded slowly, seeming a little confused.

“Thank god.” Stiles twisted back over and launching himself at Derek’s lips. Derek confusion vanished as he instantly responded, kissing back, mouth open, wet and deep. 

Stiles wiggled his body until he was on top of Derek, straddling the wolf as his hands roamed over Derek’s chest, thumbing at his nipples until the Derek broke away from the kiss to throw his head back and moan. 

Stiles smirked, proud of how he could draw those sounds of his boyfriend. He was already naked; he had gone to bed that way. He began to give little thrusts with every kiss, letting his cock hit Derek’s stomach, trying desperately to get a little friction, to get something to ease the fire burning in his belly. 

His skin felt too hot, too tight and he wanted, he needed relief. He needed Derek. Fuck, he was so hard it hurt and Jesus, please. He needed Derek’s hands on him. He needed to feel skin against skin.

“Stiles, fuck.” Derek wasn’t doing any better. He seemed almost fuck drunk, slurring his words already, hands on Stiles’ ass, pushing each thrust a little harder. 

Their kisses grew sloppy as Stiles adjusted his thrusts, so he was rubbing against Derek’s rock-hard cock, with his own separated only by Derek’s sweatpants, that were beginning to grow wet with pre-come. Each thrust was like heaven, pulling pleasure out of Stile’s spine and down to his toes. He felt like he was going to fly apart when he finally aligned them properly, cock rubbing cock, and he groaned in pleasure as Derek’s eyes flashed.

“You like that baby?” Stiles broke away from their kiss to whisper in Derek ear. Derek nodded in agreement, as Stiles pressed a wet kiss to the arch of Derek’s neck. His teeth scrapped, leaving a mark that faded in moments. 

Derek made an almost inhuman noise and shuttered so hard Stiles thought for a moment that he already came as Derek fumbled with his pants with one hand, the other twisting in Stiles hair, pushing his head down. Stiles took the hint and began lavishing kiss after kiss on the wolf’s bared neck. 

Derek pushed his pants down and Stiles was pleased to find that he hadn’t come yet. He was even more pleased when Derek pulled his cock completely out, letting Stiles see him properly for the first time.

He was uncut and swollen as pre-come dripped off the head on his dick. Stiles fumbled for the lube, which Derek took from him and one-handedly slicked them both up, letting his large hand wrap around both of them, teasing Stiles closer and closer towards orgasm. 

Their lips locked together again, Derek’s tongue deep in his mouth. Stiles felt his legs begin to clench and he pulled back.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, hands stilling as he searched Stiles’ face. 

“I want you to fuck me.” 

Derek’s pupils dilated and he licked his lips. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Before Stiles knew it, Derek had flipped him onto his stomach. Derek’s hands moved over his legs; his breath hot on Stiles ass as he mouthed at a cheek. Stiles flushed at being open and bare, but Derek didn’t take notice. 

With fingers wet with lube, Derek circled his hole. Stiles pushed himself into the bed, cock seeking relief even while his hole wanted more, so much more than the careful caress it was currently getting. 

Finally, after hours, days, years, Stiles lost track of time as he trembled on the sheets, Derek pushed in. 

He couldn’t help but let out a cry as Derek carefully pressed his index finger in, wider than Stiles’ own, wider than anything he had had in his ass before. It burned slightly, but Stiles already wanted more, he wanted to feel it. 

“Relax. Breath. I’ve got you.” Derek’s voice was hot in his ear. 

His finger didn’t move, didn’t press for a long moment, not until Stiles pushed back with soft cries of please, more, please. 

Derek was methodically with his prepping, but slowly one finger became, two that scissored back and forth, then finally, finally three that pushed back and forth making Stiles moan with every thrust. 

Stiles was a mess by then, shaking and quivering under his boyfriend, completely fuck drunk, too far gone to do much more than moan. He had long ago given up on not humping the mattress and his hips desperately wanted friction, wanted more. 

“Shit, Stiles.” Derek sounded wrecked. Stiles twisted to see his wolf’s face red as he panted, eyes watching his fingers as they disappeared into Stiles ass.

“Please Derek.” Stiles slurred. “Please put your cock in me.”

Derek shuttered, but pulled his fingers out. “Hold on.” 

Derek disappeared for a moment, and the sound of running water made it clear he was washing his hands. Stiles stayed on his stomach his whole body trembling, waiting impatiently.

Derek came back in, condom in hand. 

“No, we don’t need it. Right?” 

Derek looked at him hungerly, nodding but still hesitating. “It’ll make clean up easier.”

Stiles shook his head. “I want to feel you.”

Derek dropped the package and climbed onto the bed. He pulled Stiles onto his hand and knees in front of him. His skin was burning against Stiles, branding him, marking him. Stiles could feel Derek line himself up with his hole, but he didn’t press in.

“Are you sure? This is what you want?” Derek asked, sounding breathless. 

“Yes, fuck Derek, please fuck me, please, please.”

Derek groaned, then finally pushed in. Stiles tensed reflexively as the stretch burned.

“Breathe,” Derek coached, as he wrapped a hand around Stiles cock and gave a long tug, distracting him. Slowly Stiles relaxed to where Derek could move again. 

“Good boy,” Derek said, and Stiles felt yet another fresh rush of arousal as the words hit on a kink he didn’t even know he had.

Derek didn’t push in all the way, apparently content to thrust shallowly, one hand slowly jerking Stiles, the other hot on his hips.

Stiles was grateful. He had played with himself before, but he had never had anything nearly as big as Derek in his ass and as much as he wanted it, as much amazing as it felt to be so fucking close to another person, it hurt when Derek pushed too hard. Derek seemed to sense it. He was careful to only move slowly, gently. To make love, not fuck. 

Despite his reputation for spouting near constant chatter, in this moment Stiles couldn’t think of a single word to say. All he could do was moan like a whore as his boyfriend moved in him, thrusts becoming harder and faster as they angled deeper and deeper, any pain draining away into the palm Derek had wrapped around his hip.

Derek, on the other hand, couldn’t shut up. He kept up a constant stream of babble, assuring Stiles of how good he was, how he would take care of him, of how he loved him. Each word was fire in his veins, lighting Stiles up from the inside out. 

“So perfect,” Derek muttered. Then he moved suddenly, pulling Stiles up flush with his chest. The change of angle made Stiles shutter as Derek’s dick hit something in him that made his whole body light up. Before Stiles could beg Derek to do it again, to make him feel that again, Derek sunk his blunt human teeth into Stiles’ neck hard enough to bruise. 

Stiles let out a cry as he clenched, coming all over Derek’s hand without any warning. Derek thrust a few more times, but stopped as Stiles tensed up, suddenly oversensitive.  
Derek pulled out and Stiles made a soft noise at the loss, but he was grateful, as he had moved from uncomfortable to painful, even with the pain drain.

Derek had pulled out of Stiles, but he didn’t let him go. He held Stiles tight against his chest as he worked his cock with his hand until he came all over Stiles’ back with a snarl that left them both of them gasping. 

They collapsed onto the bed. 

“Fuck,” was all Stiles could think of to say. 

He was sweating and sore, worn down but contented and so fucking happy. He closed his eyes and snuggled closer to Derek. 

“Don’t fall asleep” Derek warned. “You think you’re gross now, wait until morning.”

Stiles just hummed, as Derek extracted himself, then came back with a warm cloth and gently ran it over Stiles come covered stomach and then his lube slick ass. 

“Come to bed,” Stiles whined, and Derek obeyed with a kiss.  
\------  
Stiles woke up feeling happy even before he even knew why. He stretched, feeling sore in all the right places. 

He grinned. Not a virgin anymore. And more importantly, he had gotten to have sex with the man he loved. It was worth the tiny bit of discomfort that was in his hips and ass.

A warm hand ran through his hair. “Do you want to shower before breakfast?”

Stiles nodded, and pulled himself up, after pressing a kiss to Derek’s lips, then staggered up to get ready for the day.  
\-----  
They had a late checkout and planned on having a big breakfast at the hotel before they had to catch their flight back home, a fitting ending to a wonderful weekend.

Stiles couldn’t stop smiling as he they went downstairs, hand and hand. 

“Holy shit.” Stiles said, as they stepped into the lobby. It had apparently snowed all night and the city looked magical, sparkling like diamonds in the weak morning light. 

Derek only laughed, pressing a kiss to the back of Stiles’ head as he led him away from the windows and into the restaurant. 

Breakfast was spent talking about their favorite things of the trip. Unsurprisingly, Derek’s was the museum and Stiles’ was the ice skating, followed closely by the pizza.

“But only if we’re not counting the sex. Cause that was the best, hands down.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the smile that was playing on his face. 

Stiles order eggs and bacon, then because it was vacation after all, chocolate chip pancakes. Derek stuck with an omelet, though he didn’t seem to mind the bites of chocolatey goodness Stiles fed him throughout the meal. They ate until they were stuffed, then sat at the table for a bit, killing time before they had to check out. 

All too soon, the hours slipped by and it was time to go. Stiles stood up, letting Derek grab a waiter to pay the bill. Stiles pulled out his phone to let his dad know they were getting ready to leave the hotel, only to find that his phone was dead. He had forgotten to charge it the night before.

“Hey Derek, let me text my dad from your phone. Mine’s dead.”

“You better charge it at the airport or it’s going to be a long flight,” Derek said, pulling out his phone from his pocket and handing it over, even as a small black box fell out and hit the table with a thump that Stiles felt inside his soul. 

Stiles froze, his eyes fixed on the box. There was only one thing that came in a box that small. 

Derek scooped out the box and pulled Stiles back into his seat, then leaned in close, preemptively attempting to stop Stiles from draw attention from any of the other restaurant patrons.

“It’s not what you think,” Derek growled, flushing red. His hands twitched, like he was having to force his claws to stay in. 

“Are you sure Der? Cause it looks like a ring.”

“It might be a ring.”

Stiles breathing started to speed up as his heart pounded. His hands were shaking, and his vision began to go dark at the edges. 

And suddenly Derek was just there, hands on his face, telling him to calm down, that everything was alright, to breathe.

Derek waited until Stiles heart was back to normal before continuing. 

“Stiles, I’m not asking you to marry me. You’re in high school. And you haven’t seen the world yet. Not to mention I’m pretty sure your dad would kill me.”

Stiles opened his mouth to say he had seen plenty, but Derek ran right over him.

“You haven’t seen the good parts of the world yet, the views that make you cry, the city’s that get under your skin and stay there. You haven’t been to college, haven’t gotten out of your own town, meet people who haven’t know you since you were five. You have a lot of life to live, and I’m don’t want to tie you down.”

Derek open the box to show a small simple black ring. 

“It’s not an engagement ring. It’s not even a promise ring, not really. It’s just a reminder, on your bad days, the days I can’t be there when you’re away at school, becoming the person we all know you will be, I’ll be waiting for you, if you want to come back to me.”

“I’ll always want to come back for you. Always.”

Derek smiled sweetly but shook his head. “I’m not asking for that.”

“That’s why I said it.” 

Stiles slipped the ring on. It was no surprise that it was a perfect fix. It was made of something light, and he couldn’t feel it on his hand, though he like the way it looked there.

“Are you sure this isn’t your way of claiming me for your wolf?”

Derek flushed a deep red and Stiles grinned. 

“I knew it.”

Stiles held his hand out and let Derek pull him up as they got ready to leave once again, this time Stiles actually managing to text his dad. 

He knew that soon his life was going to be changing in all sorts of ways. Sooner rather than later. He would have to pick a college, a career to begin to study for, maybe even some part time work so he could afford to live without relying on his father. A lot of like changing decisions that would have to be made quickly. 

But he didn’t feel the anxiety he expected to at the thought of leaving his childhood behind, at leaving everything he had ever known. He had Derek, and he knew that together, they would face the future head on. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It was going to be an amazing life, full of fusing and fighting, full of love and life. He smiled as they walked out into the cold. 

He wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
